


curiosity killed the bartender

by honeyastral (hiraethseok)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Not literally, POV Outsider, Sibling Incest, So is Sam, dean winchester is fucked, im going to hell, sort of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19794127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethseok/pseuds/honeyastral
Summary: the winchester brothers will always remain a mystery to him, but maybe thats for the best.aka, outsider pov with a bartender in a random town that the boys have stopped in for a night. he sees some things that he wishes he didnt, but he cant help his curiosity.





	curiosity killed the bartender

**Author's Note:**

> well uh,, this happened at like 3am so enjoy folks.

the bar was dark, almost muddily lit against the inky black of the night sky that bled through a nearby dirty window. dean winchester leaned back against his wooden stool, head lolled back as the final droplets of sharp stinging liquid slipped down his throat. he swallowed, heavy and painful, and rolled out the cracks in his neck before straightening up again. at the sound, a young man in his twenties looked up from his task and smiled, shaking his head slightly.

“what brings you here?” dean trained his eyes on the half drained shot glass in front of him for a few long seconds. the bartender was a gently curious presence, and the lack of prodding helped dean’s mindset greatly. the elder brother sighed, lifting his head to offer the man a fragile smile.

“just passing through,” he quipped, tossing down the last half of his shot. the bartender lifted a brow, pouring out another shot and sliding it down the table, which dean caught gratefully.

“alone?” the man continued casually. dean could pick up on the undertones of boredom in his voice, tinged with the heavy drag of exhaustion. it was nearing four in the morning, and the man was trying to last through his shift. dean appreciated the lack of genuine interest.

“no,” dean said quietly. “i'm with my, uh, brother.”

“i hope for heavens sake that he's asleep,” the bartender joked, and dean found it easy to offer up a polite laugh. the man’s presence wasn’t quite unwelcome.

“he is,” he said with a smile. “passed out in the car.”

“well then, why aren’t you asleep?”

dean looked down at the table, unrolling his familiar mask of indifference and plastering it to his face. he allowed a slightly wistful smile to slip past. the man didn’t notice, but it wasn’t really meant for him.

“can’t sleep,” dean answered. the bartender hummed thoughtfully, half an eye on his work and half an eye on dean’s untouched shot.

there was a gentle jingle at the door, signaling that someone had arrived. traffic at this hour was rare, so the man who arrived could be seen clearly from any part of the bar.

he was tall, clad in a worn looking jacket and messy hair. the man yawned, eyelids drooping slightly, but the tiredness was countered by the determined narrow of his eyebrows. he was here for something.

“dean?” the man mumbled once he’d spotted him. he plopped down on the stool beside dean, crossing his arms atop the table and resting his cheek on his forearm. dean glanced over, eyes softening ever so slightly. the untouched shot glass glistened invitingly, a stark reminder of how uninebriated dean was.

“heya sam,” he greeted. “sleep well?” the man, sam, chuckled drily.

“i’d sleep better if you were asleep too instead of trying to get drunk,” he retorted. dean scoffed, reaching down to his shot glass and lifting it to his lips. he took a sip, shutting his eyes against the sharp tang and welcoming the warmth.

“dean,” sam whined, dragging out his name. “stop. come back to the car.” dean, pretending to be deaf to him, threw back the rest of it and barely winced as it went down. he wasn't quite tipsy, but he was toeing the edge for sure.

sam frowned, reaching across and resting his hand on dean’s thigh. dean startled only at first, and then the stony expression was back, as if nothing had even changed. sam seemed to know better, from the intrigue shining through the exhaustion that weighed heavily in his eyes. dean refused to look at his brother, as if he could tell his reaction without visual cues.

“alright, fine,” he relented, and he allowed sam to gently push the empty glass away from him. the bartender collected it with a small nod and a subtle glance from one man to the other, placing it behind him to be washed and reused later.

“about time we closed up too,” the man said absently. it was nearing five now.

“sorry for keeping you,” dean apologized. the bartender waved him off.

“don’t worry about it. i’ve got a few spare minutes, and it looked like you could use a few drinks.”

sam’s eyebrows furrowed at that comment, training suddenly piercing eyes towards his elder brother in what could only be either concern or sadness. if dean saw or felt his brother’s stare, he didn’t react to it. he offered the bartender a grateful nod instead.

“have a good night, sir,” dean said, pushing himself up from the stool. the hand on his thigh slipped away, and nobody commented on it. sam stood along with him, putting aside his pensive expression for a brighter one, silently thanking the bartender for taking care of his brother for a few hours. the bartender quirked his lips in a smile, shaking his head minutely. sam grinned.

“thanks sir,” sam said over his shoulder, green eyes warm with sleep and something else.

“have a good night you two.” the brothers acknowledged him briefly, and the jingle of the bell rang clearly through the now empty bar. the bartender smiled to himself, getting to work on tidying the area for closing.

it took a grueling fifteen minutes, the man feeling rushed and barely coherent as his mind and limbs repeatedly begged for reprieve. he finally threw the towel, quite literally, when his legs refused to properly function, and decided to let the morning shift deal with the remains of his shift.

the bartender suppressed a yawn, opening the creaky door and listening to the jingle fade as he stepped outside and let the door close behind him. his ears perked up at the sound of talking, feeling the familiar thrum of curiosity rushing just under his skin. with a brief pause, he decided to investigate the sound just enough to satiate himself.

he followed it to a car parked near the bar, a ‘67 impala. the brothers from earlier were leaning on the door of the driver’s side, talking in hushed voices. they were standing close, close enough that people wouldn’t be able to hear most of their conversation. but, even standing further away, the bartender was able to pick up a few words.

“another case?... missouri? i dont... are you sure its a vamp?” with that, dean just nodded and sighed. sam’s face was worn with exhaustion that ran far deeper than something a night or two of sleep could fix, and the bartender wondered when the last time was that he’d felt happy.

just then, dean stepped a little closer, no doubt reacting to his brother’s expression. the elder lifted a hand to cup sam’s jaw, and the bartender could tell even without knowing him that he was being impossibly gentle. sam’s eyes melted, and he leaned his head into the touch. it was then that the bartender cursed his curiosity almost aloud.

sam had slowly shut his eyes, like he was allowing sleep to finally claim him, but he leaned forwards instead of slumping down. dean met him in the middle, pressing their lips together, careful and sure to hold sam up as well as he could manage. sam, in turn, wrapped his arms loosely around dean’s neck, dropping his weight against dean as he let a breathy moan tumble out of his mouth.

dean collected it effortlessly, and the bartender wondered if this was their first time doing this. there was only one answer for his question, when sam lifted his eyes open just enough to look unhurriedly at dean face, committing each nick and flaw to memory. he looked.. desperate, like this was a type of release for him, and that letting everything out was draining him completely.

“sammy,” he heard carried through the still air of the early morning, soft and reverent. he immediately felt dirty, like he was intruding on something he shouldn't be listening to.

he finally slipped away, ears ringing from the sounds of their muted sighs and eyes burning from the image of the two tangled in an embrace that itched with _wrong_ in his very bones. he took a shuddering breath, lost in thought until he caught sight of his car. he unlocked it and climbed in silently, starting it and listening to the gentle purr of the engine.

even as he drove away, he knew that those two men were intertwined within strings of lives and relationships that would never make sense to him. the curiosity pulsed still yet in his veins, but he ignored it.

maybe he just wasn’t meant to know any more about them, he thought firmly, putting aside the images of forbidden desire in favor of stepping on the gas.


End file.
